


Inevitable

by bifrostarchivist



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, basically just jon thinking about what’s to come and martin very much not trying to think about it, its 3 am this is short and ive barely edited it i am so sorry, takes place sometime after mag 181
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bifrostarchivist/pseuds/bifrostarchivist
Summary: “Yeah, but if, if you’re that connected, that dependent, what happens if we actually, y’know, do manage to –”“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> possible tws include  
> • mentions of future main character death  
> • brief mentions of violence  
> • self loathing  
> • self sacrificing behavior

_“Yeah, but if, if you’re that connected, that dependent, what happens if we actually, y’know, do manage to –”_

_“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”_

It’s been days, or what might have oncecounted as days since that conversation and the words still won’t stop echoing in his mind.

“ _We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it._ ”

Jon had kept his expression calm, an attempt at a comforting smile on his face as he changed the subject.

“ _We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it_.”

He wants to argue, he wants to scream and shout about how unfair it all is. How unfair it that Jon wasn’t even allowed to keep those brief memories of happiness. How unfair it is that Jon not surviving is even an option. He wants to make Jon tell him the truth, make Jon tell him that there’s a way out of this for both of them. But instead, he holds Jon’s hand and hopes.

~~~

He thinks he might have known from the beginning, since the second they had left the cabin. But he had pushed it away, had told himself that if anything it was distant future. Told himself that he might be wrong.

Jonathan Sims is no stranger to marching to his own death but this time it feels different.

He remembers dirt under his finger nails and the knife to his throat. He remembers digging a grave for the man who had let him go. He remembers feeling so helpless. Knowing that he was going to die here and no one would ever know. That he was going to die to Martin and Tim as a murderer. Another mystery to add to the ever growing pile.He remembers the sting of the blade against his throat. Daisy holding him up hard enough to bruise. He remembers the almost gleeful hungry look in her eyes as he struggled.

He remembers being tied to a chair. Michael coming out of his door, sharp grin on his faceas he offered an ultimatum. He remembers shakily standing up, accepting that death by the hands of the distortion would be a kinder fate than by the plastic ones that had gripped and mocked and trapped him. He remembers his hand willingly turning the handle.

He remembers the car ride to the wax museum. Tim sitting next to him, eyes cold and harsh, refusing to look in his direction. Hands gripping the bottom of his seat, trying his best to believe that they would succeed.

He remembers staring at the coffin for hours on end, weighing his choices over and over again as if he hadn’t already made the decision the second he had seen it. He remembers descending down the stairs trying to keep his breathing steady.

“ _We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it._ ” He tells the man beside him as they prepare to leave Upton House, as if it’s something that can be brushed away. As if it’s a hypothetical.

And now here he stands. Upton house and it’s memories left behind but the knowledge of what’s to come undeniable.

It weighs him down, for this time he is not fueled by fear or adrenaline or even hopelessness. He just feels certain and it’s a terrible certainty.

He Knows thatMartin Blackwood loves him. It’s a fact that he feels. A fact that he senses throughout every argument, every conversation, every touch.A fact that resonates so loud, choking him, a fact that envelops him. He can always feel it.A pressure that’s always there. It’s suffocating and amazing and god it just makes this is all so much worse and-

Jon wishes that there would be a way to make it hurt less.

“We’re going to get out of this, okay?” Martin looked up at him, his voice trying to come out confident but instead only represented a question. The worry in his eyes stark.

And he wants to say that no, Martin. They won’t be. He wants to fall to his knees and cry. He wants to tell him that he loves him. That there’s no other way. That he’s sorry. He wants to tell that it will all be okay, that they have a future. That they all will come out of this alive and breathing. That he won’t leave him alone. But instead he can only force himself to nod.

And when Martin cups his face, he selfishly lets himself sink into the touch. A touch that he doesn’t deserve. And for a moment he foolishly lets himself fantasize a world where they’re happy. A world where this gentle touch wouldn’t feel like it came at a cost. A world where they had time.

Jonathan Sims wants to live. But instead he grips Martin’s hand and they walk and walk and walk. Each step closer to the inevitable, one man trying his best to accept it while the other hopes and hopes and hopes enough for the both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> hello lgbtq+ community this is my first published work in the fandom. it is 3 am. i can’t think straight. im probably gonna regret posting this in the morning. my tumblr is @bifrostarchivist and all i feel is pain. im gonna go to sleep now <3 goodnight


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